My Immortal (The Study of Tara Gillespie)
by ValhallaStarfire
Summary: For the daring Gryffindors, patient Hufflepuffs, intelligent Ravenclaws, and ambitious Slytherins that have read (and detested) the abomination of a fanfic that is My Immortal by Tara Gillespie, this is piece of fiction that garnered inspiration from this twisted "goffik" love fantasy. Let us begin our psycho-analysis (get it, 'cause she's bat-shit crazy.)
1. Meet Eloise

My name is Eloise Ainsworth, and I am a psychology student. I have been studying at Nottingham University for about six years, and I am in the top ten in my class. As a child, I grew up with a brother that needed mental therapy, and I would often help take care of him; I have been a psychology zealot ever since. As part of a program I signed up for, I assist (and simultaneously analyze) those with severe mental problems as I had done so with my brother when I was little. I could easily say that it was the best decision of my life. Currently, I am on duty as an assistant to a teenage girl named Tara Gillespie. Miss Gillespie suffers from severe Schizophrenia. Part of her diagnosis entails that she is highly prone to having visions of grandeur (with a trace of terrors every so often). As far as things go, she may be the toughest case I have had yet to date; I do not regret accepting it, however, for it has led me to a place of wonders - the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Author's Forewarning: I have not read the series yet, save a few pages of the first book. I've also only seen a limited amount of the movies, so I don't have much to really go by. However, I do plan to borrow the books to read and interpret them myself; and I will also make up for it, not by making random stuff up, but by doing canon research. If anyone is willing to help me prevent myself from raping canon and tripping over my story, your help is **very** much appreciated.


	2. A Normal Day at Hogwarts

8 October 2006  
I woke up from another wonderful rest, reluctant to get out of bed and care for my client. The warm eiderdown of canary yellow and black enveloped me like the tin foil on a jacket potato. Tempting as it was to stay wrapped, however, I found the motivation to leave my covers and welcome myself to the cool October air blowing in from the window. I turned towards the other bed to see a still sleeping Tara. When I see her sleeping, I find it a little hard to believe that she may have anything wrong with her at all. Of course, that thought doesn't last long, for I come to rationalize that sleep can make anyone look tranquil. I approached her bed and plopped myself beside her sleeping mass; then, with a gentle hand, I nudged her.

"Tara, it's time to get up," I said softly.

From the covers, I hear "Nn, fmmf mm, wmm-mm."

I lifted the covers from her face, "What was that?"

She raised her middle finger in my direction and murmured, "I said no. Fuck you, Willow."

Normally, I would find something like that to be rude, but I got used to it from her after a couple weeks. "It's seven o'clock, and you need to get ready for lessons. It would be a bad idea to go to class unprepared and without a healthy breakfast." This has happened before, and the results of it were less than beneficial for her progress.

After a few minutes of just lying there, Tara arose from her bed and approached her dresser drawer. She pulled out some clothes and laid them out on the bed to better decide what she should wear. The colors ranged from charcoal to obsidian, ebony to sable, even from jet to raven. After a bit, she settled on a corset and miniskirt.

"Tara, don't forget to wear your robe today. You know this academy has a strict dress code," I reminded her as I fixed my makeup in front of the mirror.

"OMFG, Willow. Are you a prep now?" she retorted.

I responded back, "I'm just warning you, Tara. It's been a month already, and you've lost three hundred points for your house and managed to get a detention." In the past, I have tried to dress her myself. I've helped plenty of kids with daily tasks in the past, and I find it neither uncomfortable nor difficult to do... normally. The problem with Tara, though, is that she puts up a nasty fight when anyone tries to do things like that for her.

"Who cares about the point system?" She turned around, her boots making a small thump on the floor. "What's the use? They only give points to the preps and the Christians, anyway." She made her way into the bathroom to apply makeup to her face. At that point, I had just finished touching up and left the bathroom in order to prepare my things for the day.

After us two were well-prepared for class, we set out for the Great Hall from the Hufflepuff House for some breakfast. The rest of our day went about normally from there. Tara got the usual amount of stares from her peers, and she defended herself as she normally did, i.e. by letting them know that she can still pluck a u. Tara also received her daily deductions for her attire and her stubborn attitude. I figured that things would stay relatively normal for us, but it's not always best to assume these sorts of things.

Our story starts on our way back from her transfiguration class.

Author's Progress: I have read a few chapters of The Philosopher's Stone. I had just finished the chapter when Harry shops for his school supplies at Diagon Alley. I also have a Pottermore account and finished the read-along adventure for the first book. My wand is a hard, 10.75" blackthorn wood and unicorn hair wand, and I am also a Ravenclaw. Potter zealots can use this to diagnose me as they please.


End file.
